10 things I hate about Tyrion Lannister
by nandedatte
Summary: Modern AU:Tywin decrees that Joffrey can't date until Tyrion does. Sansa needs money to go home to her family, and gets paid by Margaery to make a move on Tyrion so she can date Joffrey. Then it gets complicated. Tyrion wonders what Sansa's big secret is, and Sansa is starting to think there might be one Lannister she doesn't hate as much as she thought...
1. Tywin's rule (Tyrion)

**10 ****things I hate about Tyrion Lannister  
**

* * *

Okay, just to get this out of the way... this is inspired (obviously) by the film '10 things I hate about you' which in turn was inspired by Shakespeare's 'The taming of the shrew', so obviously, not an original idea.  
_If you feel that any of the characters are wildly OOC, please let me know, but also be aware that at this point, I haven't seen very much of the series, and have only read 3/4 of the first book. I'll be happy to try and change things, but also be aware that this is a modern AU- certain attitudes or things that are seen in a certain way in Westeros had to be changed for what I hoped would be an equivalent in modern times._

Anyway, hope you enjoy! A heads-up- this fic switches POV every/almost every chapter, not every chapter is going to be the same length, etc etc.  
Please review if you like it, or have any advice concerning characterization or something.  
**Another heads-up: ****some characters aren't related in the same way that they are in ASOIAF/GOT! This was just to make it easier for me e.g. Joffrey is not Cersei's son, etc, etc. **

* * *

"Why are the houses here so small? Is everyone who lives here a hobo?" Joffrey sneered from the front seat of the car.  
Tyrion buried his gaze in his eyebrows and sighed, a very practiced motion.  
"Obviously. Because having a house is a sure sign of homelessness." he said, loud enough for his cousin to hear him above Jaime's loud rock music.  
"You know what I mean. They're all... poor." Joffrey wrinkled his nose as house after house passed by.  
"That's what a normal house looks like," Cersei, who was driving, stroked the boy's short blonde hair gently.  
"Ours is much bigger, of course, because-"  
"Because we're rich." Joffrey finished with a smirk before slapping away Cersei's hand.  
"Don't touch me." he snapped.

Tyrion watched Cersei stiffen and her mouth thin as she silently turned to face the road.  
"So... a new school... Let's hope it's full of whores." Joffrey said, turning and giving Jaime a nasty grin before glancing at Tyrion.  
"That's just the way you like it, isn't it? Didn't Uncle say the only reason a woman would look at you would be if you were paying her by the minute?" he snickered and turned back to face the front.

"Now, Joffrey, remember what else your Uncle said." Cersei chided before Tyrion could retort.  
"You aren't allowed to be thinking about girls right now. You should be concentrating on your studies."  
"That's not why he said what he said..." Jaime said, but neither Cersei nor Joffrey heard.  
Tyrion examined his nails thoughtfully as he pondered the conversation that had taken place over dinner the night before...

/

"I know that we discussed this matter the night Joffrey came to stay with us, but as it is his first day tomorrow, I would like to remind everyone of what was agreed." Tywin had said sternly after clearing his throat until his children and his nephew fell silent.  
They were just beginning dessert when Tyrion's father seemed to have decided it was a good time to cause an argument that would inevitably end with Joffrey storming off to his room, Cersei following close behind.  
"Ugh but we've talked about this for ages, and it's all bullshit anyway." Joffrey protested, scowling at Tywin, his mouth full and his lips tinged with blueberry pie. "You will listen." Tywin said, and Tyrion had to admire how well his father had mastered the art of making even a simple statement sound like a threat at knife-point.  
Joffrey, of course, fell silent. As he always did in the end.

"As we know, Joffrey was brought to us under uncomfortable and rather embarassing circumstances. Because of these circumstances, Joffrey is forbidden from seeing any girls outside of classes, and absolutely never alone. The rest of you are to keep an eye on your cousin."  
"Bullshit..." Joffrey muttered, his mouth still full.  
"What was that?" Tywin said, his eyes flicking to Joffrey's.  
"That stupid slut lied, I didn't do anyth-"  
"You will keep your mouth closed." Tywin said forcefully, and once again Joffrey shut up.  
"She must be a very convincing liar indeed, if she has persuaded all the teachers, the headmaster, and the board of directors at your old school that you-"  
"And you, Tyrion. Silence."  
Tyrion smacked his lips and faced his uncle, a sweet smile on his face. Tywin looked away and Tyrion shot a wink at Joffrey, enjoying the way his cousin's lips were white with anger around his stretched, pie-filled cheeks.  
Hilarious.

"As I said, Joffrey shall not be dating during his time here. No girlfriends. No whoring. Nothing." he said firmly as he reached for his wine glass.  
"However," he said, pouring himself some more.  
Joffrey's head whipped around. This was new- Tywin never lessened his punishments, and he certainly never changed his mind.  
"I shall allow Joffrey to have a girlfriend..." he paused, looking at them all, and already from the small smirk on his father's face, Tyrion could tell he knew he was about to make at least one of them angry.  
And he was enjoying that fact.  
Well, as much as he ever enjoyed anything.  
"...when Tyrion does."

Immediately, Cersei burst out laughing, Jaime groaned, and there was an unpleasant splat as the half-chewed pie fell from Joffrey's mouth as he sputtered.

"W-What? WHAT? Who the fuck would date that!? The Imp!?" he pointed across the table at Tyrion, who bristled slightly.  
Only slightly- he vaguely agreed, but he was offended nonetheless.  
"Excuse you. From what I've heard, I'm not the only disappointment in this room when it comes to size..." he trailed off, making a gesture that made it very clear to what he was referring.  
"How dare-?" Cersei gasped, slapping the back of Tyrion's head.  
"There's no place for vulgarity at my table." Tywin snapped, glaring at Tyrion.  
Tyrion was about to retort that, if that were the case, the table ought to be completely empty, but he caught Jaime's eye and decided against it.  
Jaime seemed to have a sense for when he was about to cross the line- although it never seemed to work for he himself.

"I like it. It's foolproof- Joffrey can spend time with women when a woman wants to spend time with Tyrion." Tywin said, sipping his wine and laughing loudly.

\\\\\\\\\

"We're here, Joffrey. This is your new school." Cersei's voice snapped Tyrion back to the present.  
"It looks like a brothel." Joffrey said as he looked up at the school walls and then scanned the crowd of teenagers standing in front of the doors as Cersei parked.  
"Have you ever even seen a brothel?" Tyrion asked as they all got out of the car.  
"I'm sure he's just imagining what it must be like inside your nasty little mind." Cersei said with her trademark sweet sneer, clipping him with her backpack as she swung it over her shoulder. Tyrion laughed.  
"You sure he's not confused it with your own?" he called after her as she stalked away, one arm linked with Joffrey's, one with Jaime's.  
Tyrion didn't miss the middle finger she raised in his direction, and he smiled to himself.  
The inside of Cersei's mind probably didn't resemble a brothel at all- brothels were surely heaven, and Cersei's imagination's rightful place was probably the darkest pit in hell.  
On the other hand, he thought, frowning as he walked to class, perhaps that was where Joffrey's imagination belonged.  
Regardless of whether or not Tyrion liked him (he didn't), there was no denying that his cousin was a vicious little cunt.

* * *

Next chapter is Sansa- please let me know if you like it!


	2. Lion king (Sansa)

**10 things I hate about Tyrion Lannister**

* * *

"Who's the lion king?" Margaery asked, nodding to where a small crowd was gathering by the fountain in the courtyard, all seemingly crowding around someone.  
Sansa glanced over, but couldn't see anyone through the pack of people.  
"Maybe a new student? Maybe just exam results."  
They had just had their first major tests of the year, after all. She wasn't too worried about her marks- she had been doing so much better since she switched schools, even better than she had been before things got bad.  
Having Margaery with her probably helped. There was nothing like having a ball of confidence as your constant companion.

"If it's a new student, they sure are late... Is it even September any more? ...Wait I think it is a new student... it looks like a boy. A new boy!" Margaery said, leaning as far back as she could without tipping the bench they were sitting on.  
The cool autumn breeze ruffled Sansa's hair.  
_Winter's coming.._.  
"A new boy, huh?" she murmured as she checked over her English Literature homework.  
She didn't really care. She had so little interest in boys now. The Sansa from last year probably wouldn't recognize her at all._  
Good._  
"Didn't Jaime say that a relative of his was moving in with them?" Margaery asked thoughtfully, giving up on trying to see who was causing so much interest. "Jaime who?" Sansa asked vaguely, flipping over her paper and scanning the back.  
English Literature was one of her favourite classes, partly because some of the stories about knights and medieval times reminded her of how much she had changed- never again would she dream of meeting her very own Lancelot- but also because her teacher took her seriously.  
It was a refreshing change, and Sansa liked it.  
"Jaime Lannister, duh, silly." Margaery said, grabbing a lock of Sansa's hair and tickling her nose with it playfully.  
Sansa batted her hand away and smiled, trying not to look how she felt; like someone had dropped a snowball down the back of her dress.  
"Jaime Lannister, huh? A relative?" she asked mildly.  
As mildly as she could. She hated that last name.

Margaery frowned momentarily as she thought.  
"Yeah... did he say a cousin? Or maybe a step-brother? No wait, his dad never re-married... wait is it even a boy?" she laughed gaily.  
"Oh no, I can't remember at all!"  
"Nevermind then." Sansa said as the bell rang.  
She put her homework back in her binder and swung her bag over her shoulder.  
"You've got Modern Politics next, right?" she asked as Margaery flipped her hair behind her and picked up her books.  
"Ugh, Mod Pol, kill me." she groaned, tugging at the strap of her deep V-neck under her sweater. Sansa rolled her eyes.  
"I know you love it." Margaery pressed a finger against her smile.  
"Shh. It's fun to be sneaky."  
"How is any of this sneaky?" Sansa asked, giggling as they turned and walked towarads the corridor entrance together.  
Margaery didn't reply. Sansa glanced at her.  
And then she saw him.

They had walked past the now-dispersing group of people.  
And now they could see who they'd been looking at.  
And now the snowball down Sansa's dress had turned into an avalanche in her stomach.  
It was him.

"Sansa, come on!" Margaery said, tugging her arm and walking briskly.  
Sansa vaguely trudged at her side, staring over her shoulder, her eyes glazed, her teeth biting the inside of her lips.  
Before she realized it, they were outside her English Literature classroom, and Margaery was speaking to her.  
"...What? Sorry, I-"  
"You are completely spacey, silly girl!" Margaery said, giving her a sweet smile. "Have fun in class! See you later."  
She waved her fingers and left, hips swaying down the hall.  
Sansa stood by the door for a few seconds, staring hard at the floor before entering the class and sitting down. She didn't speak for the whole class.

_Why is he here? Does he know I'm here? What can I do? Do I tell the principal? Does the principal already know? How much does Margaery even know?_

Sansa's mind whirled with questions she had no answers for the whole hour.  
She left as soon as the bell rang, walked quickly to the office, feigned a stomach ache, left a note for Margaery, and took the first bus home.  
She refused, she refused to see him.

Not today.

_Not ever again, she begged silently._


	3. Tyrell invasion (Tyrion)

**10 things I hate about Tyrion Lannister**

* * *

Tyrion likes his classes.  
Not all of them, mind you -physical education, for example, is not a favourite- but in general, he really likes them.  
A major motivator behind his liking for learning is just that: he likes to learn. He likes knowledge, he likes to learn as much as he can. He'll admit it happily- when he knows he is the most intelligent person in the room, it's a brilliant, powerful feeling.  
His body alone doesn't grant him that feeling, and so it falls to his brain.  
And his brain achieves it masterfully.  
He also likes his classes because learning is the one area of his life that his last name and his siblings have no affect on how he is treated. He is respected when he speaks in class not because he is a Lannister whose father owns half of the country's wealth, not because most of the class wants to fuck Cersei or Jaime or both. Simply because of what he is saying.  
He loves it.

Modern Politics is one of his preferred classes- the teacher is witty and knowledgeable, the assignments are interesting and actually useful, and because it's an elective class, most people in the class actually want to be there. Which used to lead him to wonder why Margaery Tyrell, of all people, would be there.  
Used to.  
Her cat-like smile, enchanting eyes, and beautiful figure, which of course she loved to show off, had never given him the impression that there was anything of much interest behind those eyes. But he had been wrong, and he knew he was not the only one.  
Margaery Tyrell was very intelligent, and what was perhaps more dangerous, very perceptive. Manipulative and subtle, she was a force to be reckoned with. He knew very well that she was behind some of the more interesting goings-on in the large school.  
And so when she plopped down into a vacant seat at Tyrion's table, a quite rare, but not unprecedented event, he shut his book and raised his eyebrows at her, not without some curiosity.

"Good morning, Tryion." she said sweetly, giving him a smile and propping her chin up on her wrist, her elbow balanced delicately on the desk in front of her. "Margaery. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Tyrion replied, leaning back in his chair.  
Margaery tapped her fingers against her cheek gently and bit the inside of her mouth in a gesture Tyrion had come to recognise- she was about to pretend she knew less about something than she really did. Her classic I'm-just-an-airhead routine. Very effective for charming the various blockheads she usually spent her time with.  
"Is it true that a relative of yours is coming to the school? How exciting!" Margaery glanced at him and laughed. "What, do you not like him?"  
Apparently his disinterest and irritation had shown on his face.  
Unsurprising- he had never made an effort to hide his dislike for Joffrey, and he wasn't about to start now.  
"Yes, it's true. Our younger cousin has come to stay with us. Today is his first day. Rejoice, for yet another Lannister now stalks these hallowed halls." he said rather drily, rolling his eyes. He had had several rather interesting conversations with Margaery, but he could tell that this one would not be added to that collection.

"A younger cousin?" her cat-like eyes narrowed slightly then widened again.  
This caught Tyrion's attention, but given that they weren't exactly talking about anything important, he let it go.  
"What's his... or her name? Why did they come here?" she asked, leaning forward. Tyrion pulled his gaze up from her cleavage as quicky and discreetly as he could. Not that she would complain, but still.  
"I wouldn't have thought the Lady Margaery would be so interested in such a young boy? I rather thought your tastes ran a bit older. Or a lot older." Tyrion said sarcastically with a yawn and a stretch.

A few more minutes to the start of the lesson. Unless Margaery planned to sit with him the whole class, she would probably go back to her usual seat soon, and might leave sooner if she felt he was trying to offend her. However, she just laughed and flipped her hair over her shoulder.  
"Quite right, Tyrion. As usual." she smirked at him and tapped a thoughtful finger against her lips.  
"It's just that a friend of mine thinks she knows him. Do you know where he used to go to school?"  
Tyrion sighed and pressed his hands against the bridge of his nose.  
"Margaery."  
"Yes?"  
"If I give you a brief summary of my dear, wonderful cousin, will you shut up?"  
"About this, yes."  
"Fine." The teacher entered the classroom at last, and began to take attendance. Tyrion leant forward.  
"Joffrey is a year younger than us. He is blonde, beautiful, and a little fucking bitch- a proper Lannister." Margaery smiled.  
"And why is he here? Present!" she said sweetly as the teacher called her name.  
Tyrion opened his mouth and then shut it again.  
He decided not to tell Margaery exactly why Joffrey had switched schools- not that he knew exactly why himself. And as much as he hated the whiny brat, he thought he might as well save him from having Margaery, of all people, privy to his private business.  
"Not sure, really. I believe he had some problems at his old school. Or maybe he just wants to make new friends." he said, with as sarcastic a smile as he could muster.  
For Joffrey, new 'friends' seemed to always mean new people to humiliate, slander, and just generally make as miserable as possible.  
Margaery smiled back.  
"How sweet. Another Lannister at our school- we are so lucky!" she said with a cute head-tilt.  
And with that she turned away to face the teacher.  
Tyrion observed her for a few moments, vaguely thoughtful. As sarcastic as he knew she was being (less Lannisters was infinitely preferable to more, as far as many of the students were concerned- and could he blame them?), he did vaguely wonder about her motives. She had seemed genuinely interested.  
But why would she care about Joffrey's past at all? Past, present, and certainly future, he would always be a little shit.  
Tyrion shrugged to himself and opened up his book again.

The motives and inner workings of Margaery's manipulative mind were not of great of interest that day.


	4. Bribing Stark (Sansa)

**10 things I hate about Tyrion Lannister**

* * *

"Sansa? Sansa are you in your room?" Margaery called up the stairs.  
Sansa glanced at the clock. Of course she was home. Classes had been finished for over an hour.  
"Yes." she called back, making a vague effort at faking a cough.  
She knew Margaery wouldn't care that she had effectively skipped, but Sansa usually liked to stick to her little white lies. For a while, at least.  
A few moments later, her door opened, and Margaery waltzed in and sat down on Sansa's bed, handing her a small packet of papers.

"Your homework. I went by all your teachers and asked what you'd missed." Sansa sat up, shoving her laptop under her pillow.  
"Margaery! That's so thoughtful, thank you!" she said, taking the papers and flipping through them, her cheeks turning pink in shame.  
Margaery had gone to so much effort- it even looked like she'd gone to one of Sansa's classmates and copied their notes!- and here she was, faking an illness and lying in bed for hours, playing freaking Solitaire and listening to cover after cover of 'No Scrubs'! What kind of person was she!?  
"Oh Margaery, this is really too much! And I'm not even-" Margaery rolled her eyes and tossed a teddy bear at her.  
"I know you're not really sick, silly girl. But I was staying for a while afterschool anyways, and I know you don't like to fall behind." Sansa smiled a little.  
"Well okay-"  
"Plus, if I had wanted to be really nice, I would've saved you a slice of the lemon tart we had at lunch." Margaery said with a little smirk. Sansa gasped.  
"What! Today... that was today..? Oh, no!" she stared at Margaery until the other girl started to giggle.  
"Just kidding, silly."  
Sansa sighed and then laughed, flinging the teddy bear back at Margaery.

They spent the next hour as they usually did- chatting and drinking tea, playing cards, gossiping, browsing online store collections, and then watching the blooper reels of their favourite shows.  
"So, do you think you'll be able to go home for winter break?" Margaery asked as she switched off the tv.  
Sansa's smile faded and she bit her lip.  
"I don't know! I've asked for more hours at work, but they won't give me any more. I could apply for another job-"  
"No way, Sansa. You've already got two!"  
_Three, plus busking..._ Sansa thought privately.  
"But I really need the money... I've calculated it all, and by my last paycheck before winter break, I'll still be four hundred short! I've asked for a raise, I've asked to get an advance on my wages, but they said no. Why do they live so far away?" she asked, pressing her hands against her eyes.  
She had been fine.  
_Fine.  
_ She'd been living with her cousin's family for half a year now. She phoned home regularly, and talked to her siblings on Skype, but she longed to see them in person. This was the first time that neither her family nor Margaery's could afford to fly her back up north to Winterfell for the holiday.  
And now that _he_ was here... she longed to go home more than ever.  
"I'm sure my parents could cover it! I mean, it's really not that much-"  
"They can't, Margaery. They just can't- they've got your brother's wedding to pay for, after all! And my parents...They've already had to sell one car... After the fall... Bran's surgery bills are so high..." Sansa was blinking back tears now.

This was why she didn't like to talk about her family any more.  
She had always been the one who cried.  
That was one thing that hadn't changed. She even missed Arya, for God's sake!  
Even Jon... now that he wasn't always there, she realized at last how much she loved him.  
How much she loved them all.

Margaery put on some of her quiet music and then sat behind her. She stroked her hair, beginning to braid it gently.  
"Oh, my poor Sansa..." she murmured.  
Sansa bit down hard on her lip and wiped her eyes.  
"It's okay. I'm going to go. I'll get the money somehow. I've asked all my teachers about tutoring- I can make flyers. And they're always asking for referees for the volleyball games, aren't they? I can do that."  
"But you don't know anything about volleyball."  
"I'll learn. I have to get this money, Margaery." Her cousin was silent for a few moments. Sansa frowned.  
"What's up?" she asked.  
After a year and a half, she could tell when Margaery had something on her mind. Margaery finished braiding her hair and Sansa turned around.  
"Did something happen at school?" She asked.  
Margaery tilted her head to one side and crossed her legs, grabbing a pillow and holding it to her stomach as she twisted her lip thoughtfully.  
"Yes and no. I had an interesting conversation with Tyrion Lannister, for one thing. And a slightly more interesting one with Cersei Lannister at lunchtime. And then a _very_ interesting one with their cousin, Joffrey. The new student, you know?"  
Sansa remained still and held her breath for a few seconds before letting it go. It was still hard to hear his name.  
"Oh yeah? Why were these conversations interesting?" she asked, as casually as she could.  
Margaery knew a little.  
But not enough that Sansa could get away with reacting how she wanted to- by crying and going to sit in the shower for an hour or so.

"Sorry, Sansa- I know he's your ex." Margaery said, offering her a sympathetic half-smile.  
Sansa just shrugged stiffly and leant back against her pillows.  
"Whatever." she said, trying to sound bored.  
"Okay. Well, he's your age- wait of course, you know that. Silly me. Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion are his cousins. Apparently he got into some kind of trouble at his old school? Probably after you switched, so I guess you wouldn't know what happened."  
Margaery reached over to the bedside table as she spoke and grabbed a sheet of paper towel and her favourite teal nail polish.  
"You want me to do your toes?" she asked.  
Sansa shook her head, so Margaery shrugged and got started on her own.

"Anyway, so at lunch, I asked Cersei about him-"  
"Why are you so interested in him?" Sansa asked stiffly, staring up at the ceiling.  
She could feel Margaery's gaze on her, so she unclenched her chin and relaxed her brow.  
It was unreasonable for her to be 'jealous' -which was surely what Margaery must think- after a year and a half. Especially since they hadn't dated for more than a month or so.  
"Sorry. I just meant... you usually date seniors, right?" she asked, and Margaery laughed.  
They both knew that when Sansa said 'seniors', she was including college seniors. And she was using the word 'dated' very loosely indeed.  
Margaery liked men.  
And women, in some cases. And who was Sansa to judge?  
"Well, as far as I'm concerned, another Lannister means another fat wallet. And you know how much I love to play with them!" she said with a giggle.  
Sansa smiled at that.  
Margaery loved to play with everyone. Not seriously -she hardly ever did anything- but Sansa knew that she loved to be in control. Especially if her puppet didn't know she was.  
"Alright, alright. So what did Cersei say, then?" she asked.  
"Well, this is the really interesting thing," Margaery said, scooting closer carefully, the bottle of nail polish open in her hand.

"Apparently, for some reason, Tywin Lannister has forbidden him from dating anyone while he's here. But there is a chance- apparently the deal is that Joffrey can date when Tyrion does!" Sansa snorted.  
"Isn't that just another way of saying 'never'?" Margaery smacked her leg.  
"Hey! That's not nice, Sansa." Sansa rolled her eyes.  
"Sorry. But it's true, don't you think?" Margaery just shrugged.  
"Maybe. Maybe not." Something in her tone made Sansa sit up and eye her suspiciously.  
"Margaery. You're not going to date Tyrion Lannister, are you?" she asked, watching as her cousin blew gently on her now teal-coloured toenails.  
"No, silly." she laughed as she shut the bottle and wiped a drop of polish from her finger. "You are."  
Sansa stared at her.  
'Stunned' didn't even come close to how she felt.  
"...What?" she asked when she finally found her voice again.  
Margaery blew again on her toes, tested they were dry, and then scooted forwards and placed her hands on Sansa's shoulders.  
"Sansa. I have a brilliant plan." Sansa shook her head slowly, rolling her eyes and pushing backwards, trying to get out of Margaery's grip.  
"Oh, no. No, no, no, no. I am not getting involved in one of your sick, weird plans-"  
"Hey! My plans aren't sick _or_ weird." Margaery said defensively before giggling as Sansa batted her hands away and buried her head under her pillow.  
"Will you just listen?"  
"No."  
"Good. I am going to make a deal with you. A brilliant deal."  
"Shut up. Go away. I'm not helping." Sansa's muffled voice came from under the pillow. Margaery continued like she hadn't heard.  
"So. Joffrey can date when Tyrion does. That just means that we have to find someone. Someone loving... someone patient... someone who's really, really sweet and kind... ah, Sansa, there you are!" she said, tickling Sansa's stomach.  
Sansa convulsed, giggling, swatting at Margaery's hands and sitting up again.  
"Stop it, stop it!" she laughed, pushing back her braided hair.  
"Okay. First things first, _no_. I mean it, I'm not going to do it. But... Margaery, why on earth do you even want to go out with Joffrey? If it's just to mess with him, or get some money or something, it's not worth it, really, really, it isn't."  
Sansa prayed that Margaery would listen. If Joffrey did anything to Margaery... and she had done nothing to stop it...  
Margaery just smiled.  
"I have my reasons, dear girl. But I am going to do it. And, I'll even give you more incentive than 'because you love me'."  
"What do you mean?" Sansa asked as Margaery got up and left the room, holding up a finger that told her to wait. A few seconds later, she returned, holding a cardboard box.  
Margaery tipped it onto the bed, and about fifty pieces of expensive-looking jewellry fell onto the bed. Sansa gasped, picking up an earring.  
"Margaery... is this a diamond? It's huge!"  
"I know." Margaery smirked. "These are all the presents I've gotten from my various..."  
"Daddies?" Sansa asked with a raised eyebrow.  
"No... well, that one, yeah. But let's just say, this is all mine, and it is definitely worth more than four hundred dollars."  
Immediately, Sansa knew where this was going.  
"No way! No. I am not your charity case, I don't want you spending your... hard earned... money on me! You can't give me any of this." she insisted, shoving it all back in the box. Margaery rolled her eyes.  
"I'm not going to _give_ it to you. I've been saving all this up, just in case I need it later. And if I don't need it, I'm going to sell it and donate the proceeds."  
"Oh."  
"However," she began, her smile turning to a playful smirk. "I might be able to spare some of it to send you to your family over the winter break. I was honestly going to just give it to you. But as you have just demonstrated, you would never just accept it. So I'm going to pay you with it."

"Pay?" Sansa echoed, not yet following where this was going.  
"I will pay you. Four hundred dollars, plus an extra hundred or so to buy your family Christmas presents with. To go out with Tyrion Lannister until I'm finished with Joffrey." she pronounced impressively, hands on her hips.  
Sansa stared at her.  
"That's absurd. That's completely absurd, Margaery. Why on earth do you want to go out with Joffery so badly?"  
"It's not that I want to go out with him very much." Margaery said with a shrug.  
"But with Jaime graduating this year, I need another Lannister in my pocket. Tyrion's too smart. So Joffrey is perfect. And I shall pay you to go out with Tyrion because, honestly, I think it'll be fun. And I really, really do want you to see your family again this Christmas. I love you like a sister. And my siblings must always be happy." she said simply. Sansa could feel her eyes filling with tears again.  
"Oh, Margaery... I really miss them." she said, covering her eyes and trying to hold in a sob as her cousin wrapped her arms around her and stroked her hair gently.  
"I know, Sansa. And you shall see them again. All you have to do is spend a little quality time with Tyrion Lannister for me."  
Sansa sighed heavily, and wiped her eyes again- she hated that she cried so easily.  
She hadn't liked it when her brothers or even Arya had teased her for it.  
But it was so much worse when _he_... when _he_ had 'teased' her for it.

"Fine." she grumbled at last.  
"But if I manage to get enough money together by myself before winter break, I get to stop pretending, okay?" Margaery nodded.  
"Of course. And it's not like Tyrion's completely unappealing. He's very intelligent, and I hear he's pretty smooth, actually." Sansa snorted.  
"He's also pretty short."  
"And that scar... It's pretty sexy, wouldn't you say?"  
Sansa wrinkled her nose.  
"No, I wouldn't. If you think he's so sexy, why don't you date him?" she asked, but Margaery just laughed.  
"I think not. But I'm serious, you should give him a chance. He might surprise you, you know."  
"I doubt that. But..."  
"Just accept your fate, Sansa Stark." Margaery said, pinching her nose. "Now, let's plan how this is going to work..." 


	5. First Contact (Tyrion)

**10 things I hate about Tyrion Lannister**

* * *

"It's barely been two weeks, and already I've got about ten sluts at my beck and call." Joffrey said with a smirk, throwing himself down onto the leather couch opposite the table where Tyrion was examining the 14th-centurary map of Europe he was going to be tested on in two days.  
"Shame they'll never get what they're so thirsty for, thanks to Uncle..." Joffrey lamented, before glancing up at Tyrion and snickering.  
"Unless some desperate sack of tits has agreed to tolerate your company? For the right price, of course?"  
"At least they'd leave my bed limping from satisfaction, rather than limping to the police station. What exactly did you do to that poor girl, anyway?" Tyrion asked, looking at his cousin with disgust.  
Although Jaime didn't know much more than him, what he had confided had genuinely shocked Tyrion.  
He hadn't realized he could dislike Joffrey more than he already did.  
Joffrey snorted.  
"Nothing I'm not proud of. The snivelling bitch deserved what she got, and anyway she's a liar. There's no proof I did anything."  
Tyrion looked back down at his map.  
"Only thanks to my father. And you could at least pretend to be sorry about how badly you screwed that girl over." he said with a scowl.  
What a hope.  
"You don't even know anything, you stupid-"  
"Do you guys want a pizza? Dad's working late today." Jaime interrupted, coming downstairs, Cersei behind him.  
"Sure." Tyrion said with a shrug, picking up his books and going up the stairs.  
It was certain that he wouldn't be able to concentrate downstairs.  
Another minute or two and he was sure he would have thrown something.

After school the next day, Tyrion decided to do his homework in the library. It wasn't unusual, but this time he did it simply to avoid setting eyes on Joffrey for as long as possible, rather than to use any of the reference books or to attend a seminar.  
He hadn't really thought it was possible to dislike a member of his family more than he disliked his father, or his sister.  
Jaime was alright.  
And he genuinely loved Joffrey's younger siblings.  
But Tyrion often marveled at just how repulsive the boy himself managed to be.

Tyrion settled down at one of the larger tables, as there weren't very many people around.  
He took out his languages book, and began to work on the assigned translation.  
He had been there for about forty minutes, and most of the other students had begun to leave, when he noticed a girl come in, circle the emptying library a few times, and then sit down at a table near his.  
This girl had done almost the exact same thing for nearly two weeks straight.  
Tyrion was getting vaguely curious about it.  
He wondered if she came every day- he certainly saw her often enough. She would turn up after he'd been there for nearly an hour. She would walk around, looking at the books and sometimes picking one up, but always putting it back before sitting down.  
Always at the next table over.  
She never seemed to actually do any homework- she always seemed to be daydreaming or doodling or sleeping. And then, exactly half an hour after she'd arrived, she would get up and leave.  
But today seemed to be different.

After putting her bag on the table and getting out her phone and frowning at it, she got up and went to look at the 'Opportunities' bulletin board. Tyrion went back to his papers, not particularly interested. There was hardly anyone left in the library now- not surprising, as it was a Friday afternoon, when all the sports teams either had games or practices- and it was nice and quiet, the way he liked it.  
Until someone spoke.  
He glanced up.

The girl was standing at the librarian's desk, pointing at the bulletin board.  
"I noticed that all of the opportunities are voluntary. Are there any paying jobs?"  
She sounded oddly nervous. The librarian adjusted her glasses.  
"Not in the library itself, I'm afraid. All of our helpers are volunteers. I do believe, however, if you would like to earn some extra money, that the volleyball team needs some referees to score their weekend games...?"  
"I'm already doing that." the girl said.  
"Oh, well good for you! Er, well, in the community, I believe that 'Pets, Pets, Pets' is hiring..?"  
"I already work there."  
"Ah! In that case... Er, let me see... I've got a flyer, one moment..."  
Tyrion went back to his book.  
It wasn't like their conversation was very interesting, after all.  
"Here it is... Here you go, dear. These are all the businesses near the school that often hire at entry level. Not many, but perhaps...?"  
"Oh no..."  
Tyrion glanced up. The girl was pushing the paper back.  
"I'm sorry! But... well, I already work at the ice rink, the other businesses have already filled their fall openings, and, well... 'Fabricastle' is shutting down. They just let me go."  
"Oh dear."  
Tyrion glanced up again. The librarian was looking at the girl with a suspicious look on her face.  
"Look, dear, you really ought to be focusing on your studies! I know money may seem important, but you can worry about that in the future. Your education is vital for-"  
"I'm not dropping out of school. I just need another job." the girl said a little impatiently.  
"Ah." The librarion nodded.  
"I was going to do tutoring, but everyone's parents want people with degrees, and the ones that don't won't pay." the girl muttered.  
"Oh dear. Well... yes, now that I think of it, I did get an email today... let me check... yeeess..." she murmured, tapping away at her computer.  
"Yes, that's right. You're in luck! You certainly have enough work experience to get the job. There are several students here at school whom I'm sure would put in a good word for you here, if you asked... How does customer service at Lannister bank sound?"  
Tyrion looked up automatically when he heard his last name, and then frowned when he heard the girl gasp.  
"No! No. Oh..."  
The librarian blinked at her in surprise.  
"I'm sorry, but- Thank you for your help, thank you, but I can't- I can't work there- Thank you!" the girl stammered, backing away and quickly returning to her table.

Tyrion curiously watched her approach.  
She was biting hard on her lip and shaking her head, and looking a little pale.  
She glanced at him, noticed him watching her, and suddenly her face was as blank as a porcelain mask. It was unnerving, Tyrion thought, how fast her face had been suddenly wiped of any trace of emotion.  
_Who is this weirdo?_ Tyrion wondered.

The next day, she was back.  
Every time she'd come before, she had just seemed tired. This time, she looked quite unhappy, and she frowned to herself every so often as she did her usual three circles of the empty library before sitting down. Finally, she sighed and sat down. At Tyrion's table.  
"Can I sit here?" she asked when he simply looked at her.  
"Be my guest." he said, waving a hand at her and returning his gaze to his book.  
Briefly. He looked up at her again. Then quickly back down to his book.  
It was difficult to subtly observe someone when they were also observing him, but to her credit, she also looked away as soon as he met her gaze.

For the second time in two days, Tyrion wondered exactly who this weird girl was; it seemed quite strange for a person to sit down at the only occupied table in the entire library.  
He also noted that she was very pretty.  
She had long, straight reddish-auburn hair, creamy skin, high cheekbones, and soft blue eyes.  
Her beauty made him wonder further why she was sitting at his table. Although he did have his share of friends, he was the first to admit that there weren't many strangers who would sit with him by choice.  
Even fewer pretty girls who would, excluding Margaery Tyrell, who was one of life's genuine enigmas.

"Did you want something?" he asked at last, still looking at his book.  
He didn't like to admit it, but he hadn't been able to concentrate properly since the girl sat down and brought a strangely uncomfortable atmosphere with her, and the sooner he could shoo her away and concentrate again, the sooner he would finish his analytical essay.  
He didn't like having homework to do over the weekend.  
"Not especially." she replied.  
Her voice was lower than he remembered it, but sweet-sounding nonetheless. Tyrion shut his eyes.  
Then his book, keeping a finger on his page. He sighed.

"Look, I've got a lot to do. Are you here to ask about the bank job?"  
The girl looked puzzled.  
"What bank job?"  
"The Lannister bank job, I'm one of the Lannisters. Are you here to ask me to get you the job?" he asked bluntly.  
Just like the day before, her face suddenly went blank.  
"No, thank you." she said stiffly, making a move as if to get up, but then she seemed to change her mind, and settled again and cleared her throat rather self-consciously.  
"So... how are you?"

This girl was officially one of the strangest people Tyrion had met. And he looked in a mirror quite regularly.  
"Not so bad, thank you, considering that I shall be surrounded by psychopaths for the entirety of the weekend. I do have a lot of work to do before then, however, so if you could wrap up whatever business you have with me fairly quickly, that would be most appreciated."  
She looked shocked, as he had expected. But then she just smiled sweetly.  
"You certainly know how to get a girl's attention."  
Tyrion laughed shortly. "But of course. That's what the body of a dwarf does best- attract attention." he stuck out his bottom lip, looking thoughtful.  
"But I must admit, it usually doesn't attract quite the sort of attention I'd like it to." He shrugged. "But obviously I struck your fancy so you see it worked." he said, giving her an ironic wink and opening his book again.  
She'd probably be gone within the minute.  
"I guess it did, then."  
Or not.

He looked up at her again.  
She was doodling on the cover of one of her notebooks, but she glanced up and gave him a small smile when she noticed he was looking.  
"So... do you come study here every day?" she asked.  
"Most days. Although I rather thought you would have known that. Don't you come here every day as well?" he asked.  
She looked startled for a second and then shrugged.  
"Most days, too. So... if you're here on the days that I come here... can I sit with you?" she asked, continuing to doodle.  
Tyrion frowned at her. He had absolutely no idea what she was thinking. Did she even know his name?  
"...Do you even know my name?" he asked.  
She looked at him, and her smile was just a little playful.  
Tyrion would have to remember that smile. It was genuinely very charming.  
"I know a lot more about you than you think, Tyrion."  
He raised his eyebrows. "Doubtful. Very doubtful."  
The girl rolled her eyes and glanced at the clock and stood up suddenly. Tyrion glanced at his watch.  
"Going to work?" he asked.  
Again, the girl looked surprised. She nodded a little stiffly.  
"Yes. Anyway... this has been a real pleasure, Tyrion. I hope to see you again." she said, packing all her books into her bag with remarkable speed.

"I'm Sansa, by the way."  
She was walking out of the library before Tyrion could even decide whether or not to say goodbye.  
_A genuine weirdo..._


	6. First Impression (Sansa)

**10 things I hate about Tyrion Lannister**

* * *

"Oh, God, Margaery, it was so awful." Sansa sighed into her cellphone.  
She had just finished her shift at the ice rink, and was rifling through her purse for her bus pass as she spoke.  
"You talked to him? At last!"  
At least Margaery seemed pleased.  
She had been bugging Sansa for the last two weeks to do it, so she'd spent ages lurking in the library, making sure most people were gone so nobody would see her talking to Tyrion, but even after waiting forever, she hadn't gotten the courage to just go and do it until that day.  
"Well, you know, I'm not exactly experienced at this. I haven't even asked out somebody I genuinely like before, so asking out somebody I'm getting paid to go out with is even harder. You should be doing this. You're the professional." she sniffed, but regretted it and said sorry immediately after.  
"Don't worry, silly girl. But if I were taking out Tyrion, there wouldn't be any point. Unless I went out with both Tyrion and Joffrey... which I could do, but honestly, it sounds like a hassle."  
"Mhmm."

Sansa stuffed her arms into the sleeves of her coat, shrugged it on, shut the door to the staff room, and waved to the custodian before walking out the doors. She liked working at the ice rink, because the cool air and the scraping sound of skates against the ice reminded her of home, of Robb and Jon, Arya, Rickon, and even her dad ice skating on the frozen lake outside their house.  
Bran too, before the accident. But that just made her miss home more.

"So what did you say to him?" Margaery asked as Sansa walked to the bus stop.  
"I don't know. Something stupid. I'm not used to this... and I'll have you know this is a last resort. The only local place hiring is Lannister bank! And all my friends' parents already have babysitters..."  
"What do you mean 'something stupid'? You're like the smartest girl I know, that's impossible."  
"You're the smartest girl you know." Sansa retorted and Margaery laughed, but didn't deny it, of course.  
"I don't know, I think... ugh I can't really remember. He's so hard to talk to!" she groaned, frustrated.  
"Whenever I tried to say something nice, he was just like 'oh well I'm an ugly dwarf lol lol so piss off'" she said, trying to imitate his voice. Judging by Margaery's laughter, she hadn't done a very good job.  
"I'm serious, I have no idea what to talk to him about. I'm pretty sure you're the only girl he's ever actually spoken to."  
"Try again. Are you going back on Monday?"  
Sansa pursed her lips as the bus arrived, and got on.  
"I asked if I could sit with him again." she said, giving the driver a smile and showing him her bus pass before plonking herself down in the first available seat. "So... yes? Ugh..." she groaned.  
"There, there. Well, I've got to set the table for dinner now. See you in ten?"  
"Yep." Sansa replied, and hung up.  
She leant her head back against the window and sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than she'd thought- and she hadn't expected it to be easy.

Tyrion Lannister... Well, he certainly wasn't at all how she'd expected.  
She really didn't know him at all- she'd heard of him, just as she'd heard of Jaime and Cersei.  
The twins were seniors, preparing to graduate this year. Cersei was blonde, statuesque, and apparently dating Robert Baratheon, although to be honest, Sansa only ever saw her with her brother Jaime.  
Jaime was the star of both the rugby and wrestling teams, and was nicknamed 'Kingslayer' after beating the champion of their rival school's wrestling team (the Targaryan Kings) three years in a row.  
Their younger brother Tyrion was just known as 'the Imp'.  
Or as 'Gimli' by those who socialised in nerdier circles.  
Hardly ever as 'Tyrion'. And certainly never with the sort of respect that his siblings got.

So, not knowing him at all, Sansa had vaguely expected Tyrion to be a rather pitiable sort of person.  
Lonely. Anti-social. Perhaps stupid.  
And although she'd heard rumors that he was actually quite vulgar, she certainly hadn't been expecting him to be so direct.  
And although his humour seemed to be mostly self-depricating, he seemed confident. And certainly intelligent. And he didn't seem to think much of the rest of the Lannisters.

Well, she thought gloomily as the bus pulled away from the kerb, that's one thing we've got in common...


	7. Tyrell invasion 2 (Tyrion)

**10 things I hate about Tyrion Lannister**

* * *

Tyrion slumped into his chair as soon as the bell rang for Mod Pol. He had not passed a particularly enjoyable weekend.  
Joffrey had thrown an especially large tantrum, and Cersei and Jaime had been screaming at each other for hours afterwards. Helping himself to the wine had seemed like a good solution the night before, but as of that morning, it had become clear that it had not been a good solution after all.  
All he wanted now was an aspirin, a soft bed, and a neck massage.  
What he didn't particularly want to see was Margaery Tyrell sinuously folding herself into the seat across from him and giving him a sugary grin.  
Which, of course, was exactly what he did see.

"Good morning Margaery." he said in a voice which honestly sounded like it came from a clogged toilet.  
"Jesus, Tyrion! Did someone hit you with a crowbar and leave you to drown in a vat of wine?" Margaery asked, wrinkling her nose.  
Rude.  
He had managed to brush his teeth, thanks very much.  
"Might've." he shrugged, grabbing his water bottle and taking a large gulp before dropping his head to his desk.  
"You can leave me to die now. Please."  
She didn't go anywhere. Of course.  
To be honest, he was actually quite surprised that she was sitting at his table two classes in a row- especially since they weren't in the middle of an argument or anything. What had they even been talking about last class...?  
"Tyrion?" the teacher called, presumably taking attendance.  
"Present, in body if not in spirit." he mumbled. He heard Margaery snort softly.  
"What do you want, Tyrell?" he groaned. Might as well get this over with.  
"Nothing but the pleasure of your company, Lannister." she replied sweetly.  
Tyrion raised his head a few inches and squinted at her. She merely smiled. He let his forehead drop back down to the desk.  
"Alright. Pleasure yourself with my presence, then. If the teacher asks for our assignment, be a dear and give him mine for me? I'm hoping to be unconscious for at least 90% of this class."  
"No problem. As long as you switch that to 80%."  
"Done." he groaned.  
"Good. So... Are you going to Robert Baratheon's party?" she asked.  
Tyrion frowned against the cold surface of the desk before remembering that yes, Robert Baratheon was indeed having a party on Friday night, and yes, that's what Cersei and Jaime had been arguing about all weekend long.  
"Ugh. Probably. If there's tits and alcohol to be had, Tyrion Lannister will probably be there, enjoying one if not the other."  
"Are you taking anyone?" Tyrion snorted.  
"Not likely. Why? Are you offering?" he asked with a faint hint of sarcasm.  
"Afraid not. I was rather hoping to spend the party with your charming cousin Joffrey."  
"I don't have a charming cousin Joffrey."  
"Isn't that a matter of opinion?"  
"No. Why are you talking about this, again?"  
"Mm... No real reason."  
"Somehow I doubt that."

"Hey, there's an opening at the local Lannister bank branch, right?" she asked suddenly, as though she'd only just remembered. "I was thinking of getting a job."  
"How should I know- Wait... yeah, yeah there is. I'm not sure if it's been filled already or not."  
Margaery nodded vaguely, but now that she'd reminded him...  
"Say... you're good with names, right?" She glanced at him.  
"Like, people? Not as good as Varys, but sure."  
"Do you know anyone called Sansa?"  
Margaery smirked at him. "Ooh, got a crush on someone, Tyrion?" she asked teasingly, lowering her voice as the teacher began the lesson.  
"Absolutely not. She's a nutcase. I was just wondering if she actually goes to this school, or is an escapee from a hospital. Or a horror film." he said, remembering the genuinely off-putting way in which the girl had wiped her face of all emotion in the blink of an eye.  
Margaery snorted with laughter, covering her mouth too late to muffle it. The teacher frowned at her and cleared his throat before continuing his lecture.  
"Do you know her, then?" Tyrion asked in a low voice.  
Margaery took a breath, composing herself.  
"I think I know who you're talking about, yes. Sansa... Sansa Stark, I think..." she tapped her cheek thoughtfully, nodding. "Yeah. She's in tenth, and I think she transferred... half a year ago, was it? From Winterfell." she shrugged. "I don't really know much about her, sorry."  
Tyrion snorted, but Margaery ignored him.

"So... why are you asking about her?" she asked, leaning forward and smirking.  
Tyrion knew he shouldn't have asked. He took another gulp of water. At least his headache was slowly fading.  
"No real reason. She was talking to me on Friday. She seemed..." he shook his head. "Pretty weird."  
"What, did she eat sugar cubes and ask you to confess all your secrets?" Margaery asked with a giggle.  
Tyrion gave her a look. "I'm afraid not. She just wouldn't leave, and then asked if she could sit with me on days when we're both there."  
Margaery just blinked at him. "That really doesn't sound weird at all. She sounds nice!"  
Tyrion sighed- it would be more effort than he was willing to exercise to explain exactly why he'd found Sansa Stark so strange.  
"Never mind then. Now are you going to shut up and give me my 80% of unconsciousness yet?" he grumbled, letting his head fall back onto his desk.  
"I think she likes you." Margaery said, as though she hadn't heard.  
"80 %" Tyrion repeated, and that was that, as far as he was concerned.


End file.
